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Wednesday, July 26, 2006

The non-weather related post

I never blog about the weather because someone, somewhere always has it worse. I live in California, for cryin' out loud. I can, maybe, get away with complaining to someone who lives in Hawaii. But damn. I just have to say one thing. It is H-O-T. It is F-U-C-K-I-N-G H-O-T!!! And not in the hip, sexy kind of way.

I don't care what anyone's "WeatherChannel.com's" temperature reading was for where I live over the weekend, because I know what my trusty SUV's temperature gage told me. It was 112. (a hundred-and-fucking-twelve-degrees-farenheit) And? My car does not lie. When it tells me I have low fuel, it's because I need gas. When it tells me the cargo door is open, it's because the back door isn't closed all the way. When it tells me I need to change the engine oil, it's because it has been 3,000 miles since its last pampering at Jiffy Lube. My car and its little "right about everything" messages are annoying, sure, but it never lies. Never. It was 112 people! It. was. Hot.

My dog didn't even want to go outside. I made 6 trips out to the car to bring in the groceries and normally he happily follows me out, does his little thing and follows me back in. Sunday he followed me out for the first two trips, stayed in the shade next to the garage on the third trip and watched me from a safe distance inside the house (ready to pounce and dig in if I tried to take him outside) for the remaining three trips.

Y'all who live through this for weeks-on-end? Every year? Have my deepest, deepest respect.

6 comments:

I've said this before more times than are prudent this year. But remember when chatting about the weather was last resort filler material? This summer, it's headline news. Right next to the Crisis in the Middle East and Britney Spears.

We've been getting it too...not quite as bad as you, but Oregonians don't do hot. My car and my little weather station thingy on the house said 102 on Sunday, but supposedly the high was 94? I wanna know who's smoking the crack pipe to come up with that number.

It's not the heat, it's the humidity! Who said that anyway? When I was in Las Vegas once and it was over 100 degrees and my feet were burning through my little keds, I didn't care much for that argument.

About Me

Welcome to my blog! The place where I come to write things that amuse the voices in my head. I am a huge sports geek and am usually somewhere on a roller coaster ride with one of the many teams that I root for. If you hear me yelling at my TV... that means the game is on!